


Does it Plague You at Night (Do You Feel Good)

by RDcantRead



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Asexual Character, Getting Together, Hurt Roger Taylor (Queen), Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Roger Taylor (Queen), Internalized Acephobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 16:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RDcantRead/pseuds/RDcantRead
Summary: It wasn't something that Roger was aware of for a long time. It wasn't something he thought was a thing for even longer.





	Does it Plague You at Night (Do You Feel Good)

**Author's Note:**

> Title Taken from "Death on Two Legs (Dedicated To...)" By Queen

It wasn't something that Roger was aware of for a long time. It wasn't something he thought was a thing for even longer. It was just something weird, different, unnatural.

When he was twelve, the boys at his school talked about kissing girls. To be perfectly honest, it wasn't really something that interested him, he was curious about it, but it wasn't something that he had to do.

When he was thirteen, he kissed a girl. It was alright. He thought that he could maybe do without kissing for the rest of his life.

When he was fifteen, he had sex for the first time. He doesn't like to talk about it, and he doesn't want to relive it.

Sex was meant to be enjoyable. His classmates liked sex. Girls he met liked sex. Everyone he met that wasn't a virgin liked sex.

There had to be something wrong with him. He wasn't normal, it isn't normal to not want to ever have sex with anyone. He isn't normal.

He's disgusted with himself for being all weird about sex. Maybe everyone's weird their first time? He doesn't know. But he desperately wants to be normal, and maybe if he got better at sex then he would be normal.

He does it again. He finishes, but when he gets home he stops breathing for a few minutes. Or maybe he breathes too much, he's not sure anymore, everything's all blurry.

It's probably his fault that he wasn't working properly. He must've done something wrong, or maybe he was made wrong. At least he's sure of one thing, he's not normal, he's broken. And he needs to be fixed, or to fix himself.

But he can't tell anyone, he doesn't want to be weak, and he knows that people aren't nice, and only use you for themselves. He can't tell anyone.

So he's got to fix himself, he'll finally get himself working. It's just like in the psychology lectures he sometimes attended, when people have phobias, a common way to fix them is to expose them to it.

So he continues. He doesn't want to, but he knows he needs it. He develops a reward system. When he does something that he wasn't supposed to do, he'll have sex.

When he's being an awful person, or is a dick to his flatmates, he'll fuck a girl.

Eventually he gets good at it. He never learns to enjoy it, and his panic attacks following only seem to get worse, not better.

He's a disgrace. His reward system isn't working, and he's just as bad of a person as he always was.

He becomes hyper aware of all the things he does wrong, he doesn't want to say anything just in case it's not good, so he stops talking to people in general.

He fucks a girl everytime he gets lower than an A on an assignment for biology. He stops going out for fun, because then he isn't studying, and not studying means lower grades.

His anxiety gets so much worse. He lives in a constant state of paranoia, worried about anything and everything. He knows that he's not doing anything bad at the moment, but what if he does by accident?

He starts seeing accidents as proof of his mistakes, he begins fabricating people's thoughts on him, how he dresses, the way he talks, the way he looks.

He changes everything about himself, crops his hair short, leaves his drum kit at his mum's house, he doesn't need it, and he doesn't deserve them. Plus, playing the drums isn't something that is important anyway.

He changes the way he dresses, what he wears, his dress sense was unorthodox and annoying. He changes that.

He loses weight. Maybe he's eating wrong? What if he does something wrong because he's eating? What if a vegetarian gets offended by what he's eating?

His constant wearing of sunglasses even inside is so obnoxious, but he wishes he could throw them out just like his favourite pair of pink sparkly converse, instead he leaves them in their case, they were too expensive to throw out.

He's so self conscious that he can't go out and talk to people, going out for his lectures is enough work.

He gains a reputation as a slut. And he is. He's a dirty whore.

It's not just about fixing what's broken anymore, it's about fixing anything and everything, punishment for being who he is. He's putting himself through so much, because he can't stand the person looking back at him in the mirror. He can't look at himself, because if he does all he'll see is a failure of a person. Someone who's parents would definitely prefer if they weren't born.

Maybe he should do that, just to help everyone else escape from his presence.

He begins noticing boys in his classes. It starts as not wanting to look at the girls, he's sick of girls. But the boys are cute. He can look at guys, he can look at them and think to himself, "That guy is adorable!"

He can look at men and think they're attractive. But he can't. Because even though it's acceptable to be gay. It's not to Roger. Or rather, it's not acceptable to Roger, for himself to be gay. He just wasn't raised that way, and his father taught him how a family was supposed to work.

Although he tried to break free of his father's teachings, some things he knew. Like being gay. Other people can be, but he can't.

And so the cycle continued, when he noticed boys, he fucked a girl. His anxiety was overwhelming him. He couldn't think straight, he constantly questioned himself and his choices and what he was doing and his relationship with everyone.

Although, he doesn't have any relationships, he can't talk to people, because if he does, he'll do something wrong. He's stuck in this constant cycle of anxiety and punishment.

He hates sex. He doesn't want to have sex. He isn't attracted to people sexually. And that's not right. It's not natural, and maybe it would be better if the unnatural didn't exist.

Sometimes he thinks that death would be better than this state of perpetual anxiety.

When he meets Freddie he's 120lbs and he's dressed in gray and black, he doesn't want to talk to him, but needs to buy a present for his little sister for Christmas, and he saw a beautiful bracelet at a stall at Kensington Market. He can't buy something awful, and he needs to get a present she'll like.

When he sees him, he's ashamed of the hot flash of envy that courses through him at Freddie's confidence and easy charisma, while at work he's constantly berated to speak up or to talk to customers more.

He needs to talk to the person manning the stall, he has to get that bracelet.

When Freddie sees Roger, he knows that a person who dresses like that wouldn't be interested in the things he's selling, but he feels something pulling him towards the blond, and he sees the reluctance to talk to anyone in the boy's blue eyes.

He sees the nervous glances and the bitten lip, and he is surprised when the blond stops in front of his stall.

Roger leaves with Freddie's number on his phone and something resembling a smile appearing on his face for the first time in two years.

He meets Brian through Freddie, and he thinks that maybe Freddie could be his best friend, he's the only person with which the anxiety settles for just a little while, and he can enjoy himself.

Although not everything has been sunshine and daisies. The anxiety that decreases when he's with Freddie returns full force after they part ways, leaving him in doubt as to his relationship with Freddie. Leaving him breathless and gasping to escape the sea of panic he was drowning in.

When he meets Brian he's still underweight, and he can't seem to have an appetite. Though maybe that's not true, he seems to have an appetite for Freddie, he thinks he might like him, as more than a friend, but it's not even due to Freddie's looks or confidence or pretty smile, it's his personality, his warmth and kindness. He loves what makes Freddie Freddie, and that's the worst thing.

He thinks he might be in love with Freddie. Or maybe he loves the idea of Freddie. He wouldn't be surprised if he can't even love correctly. (Not that he does, he thinks to himself.)

When he meets Brian, he's immediately drawn to how perfect he looks, how talented he is, how smart he is. Brian is introduced to him as Freddie's bandmate, and he's introduced as a friend.

He doesn't take to Brian immediately, he admires him and he's jealous of him, but he doesn't feel safe in his presence like he does in Freddie's.

Freddie taught him that it was okay to be himself, and sometimes he listened to him. But it's hard to believe someone else when you've believed one thing for a very long time.

Two years after meeting Freddie, and a year after meeting Brian, Roger thinks that he's doing better. A bit better, he's grown his hair out again, and he wears the same things he wore before his downward spiral, but the anxiety still overtakes him. It still controls him, and sometimes he feels the urge to change himself again, and he still isn't completely comfortable talking to people. But it's a start.

He hasn't told Freddie his biggest failure as a person, no matter how much Freddie dug into it, he can't tell his best friend. He can't tell him why he whores himself out so much, why he has to.

He has to fix himself, because Freddie may have mended the cracks, but the fissure was something he would have to repair by himself.

He meets John over two years after meeting Freddie, and he seems whole to everyone but himself and Freddie.

When he meets John, he's a hundred percent sure of his love for Freddie and Brian. Brian who helped him get back into drumming, and Freddie, who saved him from himself.

And John seems like a perfect match into their little group, and within the first two months of knowing John, he had moved in with them.

And after knowing him for a while, John not only seems like a perfect fit, he is a perfect fit. Him and Brian might not always get along, but Brian has the ability to get into an argument with everyone.

Five years after his downward spiral began, he can feel it begin again, and it's so much worse. He doesn't want to call it a relapse, but it is, it really is. He needs to hide it from the others but they can tell something's wrong.

He's twenty four and doing what he loves, with the people he loves, and he's enjoying life. But it all comes back when the teasing begins. It's just some light teasing between friends, but to Roger it's so much more than that. It's his best friends making fun of him leaving his playboy ways behind him. And it's innocent.

It's a joke, and he shouldn't have taken it so personally, but he just broke. The sellotape over the cracks had fallen off, and no matter how hard he tried to stick it back on, it just made things worse.

He hid it for a while, but Freddie is so closely intertwined with his soul now, that he can immediately tell something's wrong.

It comes to a head on a Tuesday evening. It's just the four of them, no management breathing down their necks, nobody but them.

And Roger is aware that no matter how he tried to spin it, he's stuck with the truth. They corner him after two pints and a game of Scrabble. And he knows that this is the end of their friendship, no one wants to be friends with someone who doesn't work. If it's broken, replace it.

“Rog... Are you alright?” it’s Brian who proposes the question, and his blunt tone surprises even Roger, who was expecting a direct but subtle confrontation. He doesn’t want to answer Brian but he knows he’s been avoiding this conversation for years.

“I-I’m fine,” his head is shaking as he says it, and he juxtaposition almost makes him laugh. Or break down into hysterical tears.

John decides to speak up next, and Freddie remains quietly contemplating the situation, and Roger knows that if Freddie were to speak, then he would break down all of his carefully constructed barriers.

“We know you’re not okay, Roger. You can tell us anything,” Roger quietly shakes his head, he can’t tell anyone anything. He swallows down the sobs that are threatening to bubble up in his throat.

“Is this about… us?” Suddenly, all of his walls fall apart, he can’t breathe through the tears and his first choked off sob coerces a gasp out of Brian and John, who hardly ever see him cry, let alone break down like this.

The embarrassment of breaking down in front of his best friends (who he happens to be in love with) threatens to overtake Roger, making him shy away from their comforting touch.

“Just let it out darling, it’s alright now,” Freddie’s soft voice pierces through the veil of tears, and Roger grabs onto Freddie’s shirt, burying his face into the fabric, soaking it through with his tears.

He blocks out all other senses, focussing only on his friends, he doesn’t want to see the real world, it only brings pain and suffering.

“I-I,” his speech is punctuated by sobs and gasps, “I need to tell you something,” he can’t bear to see the others’ facial expressions, he thinks it’ll hurt too much.

“I… don’t like girls.” He bluntly opens his confession, “Or, well, I do, but not that much,” he can’t seem to correctly clarify what he’s feeling, when he’s spent so long denying it’s existence, or torturing himself about it.

“And I don’t like guys either, I mean, I kinda do, but I don’t want to fuck them. Or girls. Or anyone,” he’s becoming hysterical, and his speech is speeding up, he doesn’t want to see their reactions, but he couldn’t bear to look away from them in such an emotional moment.

It’s John who first speaks after the inevitable awkward silence, “So you're asexual.” His response is so matter of fact and so typically Deaky, that it’s hard to tell that anything had changed between them. Roger never knew there was a word for people like him, he didn’t even want to look into it, and it makes him feel like maybe he isn’t broken.

“This doesn’t change anything Rog, you know that you’ll always be my best friend,” Brian’s comforting tone lodges something in his throat, and he sobs a wet laugh, tears still streaming down his face. He grabs onto Brian and pulls him into a hug, his tears dampening the shoulder of Brian’s shirt.

“I know Bri.” Is Roger’s only response to Brian’s speech.

He can hear Freddie sniffling in the background and he turns his head towards him only to see him holding back tears.

“I wish you could have told us earlier blondie, you know that we don’t care,” his sentiment echoes the others’ and Roger desperately wants to believe him, but he can’t disregard years of self-loathing and shame.

Roger decides that if he’s coming out with this, then he can afford to come out with everything, “That-That’s not all,” his speech is still stuttered with uneven breathing and silent tears, “I…” he pauses, but if he knows anything at all, it’s this, “I love you. All of you, like… I’m in love with you.” He surprises even himself with his confidence, and the surety of his delivery.

“And I know that you guys don’t feel the same, and that’s fine, but I wanted you to know,” he’s looking away from them now. He doesn’t need the pity, the sympathy, or the reassurance.

“I love you too.” He knew that John was the bravest of them, Brian too eaten up inside by self-hatred, and Freddie too anxious and insecure about his position, but he definitely wasn’t expecting John to reaffirm what he revealed to his bandmates.

“What?” “Me too” him and Freddie speak at the same time, his disbelief over the entire situation skyrocketing. Freddie’s quiet confession just exacerbating his feelings of incredulity.

“I love you all too,” Freddie clarifies, looking relieved to get his confession off his chest.

All that was left was Brian, who was looking at the floor, and only looked up and smiled sheepishly when he felt the stares of his bandmates on him, “I don’t see why you all would want someone like me, but I… I love you, and I want to be with you all. Properly.”

“But, I can’t, why would you even want to be with me when you know…” Roger trailed off.

“It doesn’t matter to us lovie, we love you, and a relationship isn’t just about sex,” Freddie reassures Roger, he’s sure Roger’s never had a proper relationship before, and he’s determined to show him how it should be.

“So, you guys are willing to be with someone like me?” Roger isn’t willing to believe in the supposed altruism of his bandmates, and he can’t quite grasp the fact that they would be happy to do that for him, there’s a price for everything.

“Of course,” John seems almost offended at Roger’s hidden slight at their character, “We would never abandon you, and we don’t care that you don’t want to fuck, and I know that I want to be with you.”

Brian pipes up, “I don’t care about it Rog, and I think I speak for us all when I say that we want to be with you regardless of that.”

Brian’s statement is punctuated by nods from everyone, bringing tears to Roger’s eyes and prompting him to bring all of them into a hug.

“Wait, so that’s it, are we together?” Roger can’t resist asking. He really can’t believe anyone would want to be with such a bad person, but he is willing to give his bandmates (boyfriends) the benefit of the doubt, “Like, boyfriends?”

“If you want darling, then yes,” he smiles giddily at Freddie’s words and nods quickly.

“I’d love to, if all of you want to,” he smiles happily at them all.

John speaks up, “Well, I want to.”

“Me too,” Brian agrees.

“Always darling,” Freddie smiles, he then hesitates before speaking again, “Can I kiss you?”

His experiences with kissing haven’t been great, but he’s willing to try. He nods softly, and Freddie puts his hand on his cheek, giving him a soft smile, and leaning in.

The kiss is weird, Freddie’s lips are soft from his excessive lip balm use, and his hand is comforting and grounding. Then Freddie bites at his bottom lip, drawing a gasp from Roger.

Freddie’s tongue is wet and warm, and Roger is sure that he liked kissing without tongue, but he isn’t sure about this.

He pulls away, a smile playing on his lips, and kisses Freddie on the cheek.

“I love you,” he whispers to Freddie, before repeating the sentiment with the others. And receiving the same response back.

He knows that his anxiety about it will always exist, and may play up throughout his life, but with his boyfriends by his side, he’s sure that it’ll be alright.


End file.
